


Sentimentality

by TheRangress



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Gen, Renarin love fest, ableist abuse mentioned, suicide mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 22:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12945237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRangress/pseuds/TheRangress
Summary: She never wanted Renarin to go through what she had. Now it's too late, and it's her fault.





	Sentimentality

Jasnah Kholin’s world fell from under her.

“Which Order?” she asked.

“Truthwatcher,” said Dalinar. Renarin stood at his side. He was frozen, staring at Jasnah.

“Giving,” she idly noted, ignoring the deep ache in her chest. She stepped forward. “ _And_ you’ve grown a foot.”

It took a moment. He was still struggling. “No, I still only have two.”

Jasnah snorted. She stepped forward, holding out her arms. “May I?”

He barreled into her, pressing his face into her shoulder and nearly lifting her off her feet. Jasnah shut her eyes, putting a hand on his head.

“Jasnah.”

“Renarin.” She pulled him in closer. “My little cousin.”

“Your _tall_ cousin.” He pulled away, grinning and bouncing on his toes.

“No.” She smiled, trying to tuck away the pain. “You’re hardly little anymore. Forgive an older cousin her sentimentality.”

“Careful admitting to that where people can hear you. It could ruin your reputation.”

“More than getting myself killed?” Jasnah folded her arms and shook her head. “Even a heartless bitch like myself is entitled to _some_ sentimentality under these circumstances.”

Renarin, cautiously, reached forward and patted her arm again. Just to be sure she was alive. Of course. How hard had it been on him, losing her?

“Jasnah,” he said, gravely, “I made friends.”

“Well, good. I’m glad to hear somebody finally had some sense.”

“Yes,” he said, “which is why I have about forty more than you do.”

She let out a long breath. “I come back from the dead, and you immediately start insulting me?”

“Making up for lost time.”

“Why don’t you show me around the city, then? You can insult me while catching me up on the new Knights Radiant.”

His smile faded. “I… I’m not the expert on these things. You’d do better with Brightness Davar for a guide.”

“That may be, but I’m sure you can at least show me around.” What was he afraid of? It was hardly likely Renarin knew _nothing_. Something he knew frightened him.

Jasnah stepped forward and put a hand on his arm, but he pulled away.

“I’m needed with Bridge Four anyway,” he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving the room.

Jasnah stared at the door, narrowing her eyes.

“I know,” said Dalinar. He sighed. “I’ll show you around, then.”

“Thank you, uncle.”

She pulled herself away from the door and followed him inside.

 

* * *

 

“Not working, Jasnah?”

She turned her head. Dalinar stepped out to join her on the balcony, smiling wistfully.

“Contemplating,” she said, leaning back on the railing and looking out to the clouds.

“Our young man?” he asked.

“Do you know when he bonded his spren?”

Dalinar sighed and leaned on the railing at Jasnah’s side. “He won’t talk about it. Most likely to keep me from guessing how badly my talk of my own visions affected him. He’s spoken the Third Ideal, at least.”

“I bonded Ivory long before the war.” And told no one. Could she have guessed Renarin would need to know? Was his secrecy learned from her? “Those Ideals could have taken months or years. It depends on how quickly one can accept them.”

“Years of hiding the truth out of fear that…” Dalinar trailed off.

“You’d lock him away as a lunatic,” Jasnah concluded, softly. “Yes. The fear I taught him.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “You aren’t at fault here, Jasnah.”

“Aren’t I? I made it my responsibility to ensure that Renarin wouldn’t have to endure the things I did. Both of us are Knights Radiant— he is as broken as I.”

“All three of us are broken.” Dalinar turned away. “My trip to the Nightwatcher— I’ve found myself remembering again.”

“Unusual.” In an instant, she was scholar. “Perhaps the influence of the Stormfather somehow interferes with the Old Magic.”

“Perhaps. In any case, these new memories… I still have no memories of fatherhood. I remember my sons only after I joined them on the Shattered Plains— Adolin already a man, Renarin with only a few remaining years of childhood. Before that, nothing. Jasnah… was I a good father?”

“No,” she said. “You were hardly a father.”

Dalinar nodded slowly. “I thought so. Then, it is my fault.”

“He always sought to please you.” Jasnah turned away from the railing, head raised to the sky. “I should have put a stop to that.”

“I wish you had.” It wasn’t an offhand comment. He truly meant it.

She put a hand on her uncle’s shoulder. “We both failed Renarin.”

“We did.” He looked at her. “Now we must do better.”

Jasnah silently nodded her agreement.

It was a waste to wonder about the past she couldn’t change. Better to devote herself to the problems before her. Save Roshar, and regain Renarin’s trust.

No more time for sentimentality.

 

* * *

 

 

He jumped when she knocked on the wall.

“May I?” Jasnah asked. She clutched the book in her hand with childlike nervousness.

Renarin took a moment to look her over. He had found a secluded corner of Urithiru, a winding hallway empty of all sounds but wind. The windowsills were thick, letting him sit with his lunch and tea set beside him.

“What is it?”

As Jasnah approached, Renarin moved to the side with his things. He watched her carefully, relaxing slightly when she sat down. Jasnah held the book out.

“It’s for you,” she said, a little stiffly. This situation was… unfamiliar. It was necessary, though. She had been making mistakes long enough.

Renarin took it with cautious hands, and flipped through slowly. No wonder he didn’t trust it. As he examined each page, however, his bearing softened and relaxed.

“I take it Stonestance was the correct choice, then? I consulted with Zahel on your aptitudes.”

“What… is this?” He couldn’t tear his eyes from the pages, running his fingers along one set of illustrations.

“It is an apology,” she said, arranging her skirts, “for nearly killing you.”

“It… happens.” He flipped a page, still looking at the book. “I’ve nearly killed me too.”

“Most likely, I bear some responsibility for that too.” Jasnah looked across the hall. “Don’t argue.”

“Jasnah, I couldn’t begin to even name all you’ve done for me.”

“I told you not to argue.” She sighed, tucking a curl of hair behind her ear. “My purpose was to ensure you wouldn’t turn out like me. As we have both obtained a Nahel bond, I think it clear that I have failed.”

“How does that make it your fault? You kept me safe from them. It’s not your fault I wasn’t strong enough.”

She turned to him. “You _survived._ That is proof you are strong— strong enough to endure a world set on ignoring you. I ensured nobody could forget me again, but you were never given that option.”

Jasnah set her hand on the book Renarin held.

“You made it clear what you wanted. Even I denied you, Renarin. I should have known better, just as I should have known better than to think you would betray us.”

“With what we know of Odium, it might not even have _been_ me anymore.”

He looked up. It wasn’t just a suggestion, it was a fear that had haunted him.

“I should have trusted you,” she said. “Enough, at least, to _ask_.”

“I didn’t trust you enough to answer.”

“Of course not. That’s who I taught you to be.”

She moved her hand to cover his. Renarin stared at her, uncomprehending.

“You taught me how to protect myself,” he said slowly. “You taught me to trust _only_ you, because you would never call me a lunatic.”

“I taught you to be afraid. I should have taught you to demand your due, instead of believing no one would ever grant it.”

He stared at her still.

“Renarin, you deserve more than this. More than the fear I taught you, or assumptions I made.” She ran her hand along the open book. “Be a warrior, Renarin. Not only with a Blade— fight to be respected. Don’t be silent and let them win.”

Jasnah pulled away from him, looking to the floor. Talking like this was so unnatural— but necessary. Being herself had led to this, which meant fixing it would require being someone else.

“Like you,” he said at last.

Jasnah smiled. “Be better than that.”

He leaned into her shoulder. “I am all right, you know. Now you haven’t killed me.”

“Well, if I’d known it would be so good for you, I’d have not killed you years ago.”

Renarin snorted, nuzzling against her. She put a hand on his arm and held tight. “I mean it, Jasnah. Knowing we can fight against the things I see… it’s put things in perspective, and I think… I think this is being all right.”

“And you reminded me that I can’t act purely on my fear and call it logic.” She wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “Perhaps I need to learn how to be more sentimental.”

“I’ll let you in on a secret.” He turned to her, smiling. “You’ve _always_ been sentimental. All those drawings of mine you kept?”

Jasnah forced a huff of superiority, but it was only laughter. “Logic has always been easier. Safer. It was easy to forget it can be just as dangerous as passion. I think, perhaps, it is time for Jasnah Kholin to let some of her reputation fade.” Perhaps not what was needed from the Queen of Alethkar, but… she could afford to let her guard down, with family. What remained of it.

“And time for Renarin Kholin to step out of the shadows.” She’d seen that wild grin on a grubby child before. Then, it faded. “My tea is cold.”

“A tragedy,” she agreed.

Renarin sighed and drank it anyway, grimacing. “Do you have time, Jasnah?”

“For you, of course.”

He stood, picking his things up off the windowsill. “I was going to look for a sparring partner after this— would you do me the honor?”

“Certainly.” Jasnah stood and smoothed her skirts. “I could use more practice with a Shardblade. Give me a moment to change.”

“I’ll read while I wait,” he said, holding up the book she’d given him. “Jasnah?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

When she was young, when Jasnah had found herself in tears, a little boy used to pad into her room. He would climb into her lap, place a wet kiss on her cheek, and announce that he loved her.

“I love you too,” she said.


End file.
